


missing you is a slow burn

by clairdeloune



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Canon Compliant, D/s undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Outing, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:36:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4782569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairdeloune/pseuds/clairdeloune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe we should talk,” he offers quietly, even though he already knows what the answer will be. So when Louis frantically shakes his head and tries to kiss him again, he takes his face in his hands and strokes his cheek with his thumb, asks, “What do you want, love?”</p>
<p>Louis doesn’t look him in the eye when he whispers, “You.”</p>
<p>So Nick gives him just that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	missing you is a slow burn

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I can't believe I'm actually doing this.
> 
> Happy birthday, [Alice](http://intenselouis.tumblr.com/). I love you and I hope this is a good enough gift and that you'll enjoy it. <3
> 
> Big thank you to [Heidi](http://infinitelymint.tumblr.com/) for betaing this and always encouraging me to write and just being absolutely lovely, to [Ana](http://leavingonatrain.tumblr.com/) for looking over this and helping me make it better and giving me more confidence to post it, and last but not least, to [Anna](http://maybetheyarefireproof.tumblr.com/) for always getting excited about my writing and bearing with me waffling on about the fics I want to write.  
> You're all wonderful.  
>  
> 
> Title from So Far Away by Mary Lambert.

It’s the middle of the night when Nick gets the call.

He lets out a groan and hides his face in his pillow, trying to block out the noise. He’s had a long day, having to wake up even earlier than usual for work and then staying for more meetings afterwards. And maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to let Aimee drag him to some bar for drinks when he was well aware of the fact that it’s the middle of the week and he still has to wake up at 5 the next morning. He didn’t even pick Pig up from Collette, deciding that it was too late to show up at her doorstep and wanting to get to bed as fast as possible. Of course, he also wasn’t expecting to be woken up after having slept only a couple of hours, when everything around him is still pitch black and the volume of his ringtone is literally painful.

He lets out a sigh when it stops ringing, relaxing into the sheets, but then it starts up again. No matter how tired he feels, it’s kind of worrying that someone’s trying to get hold of him at this hour. So eventually he reaches for his phone and scrunches his eyes at the blinding light as he tries to get a proper look at the screen. But his eyelids fall shut and he gives up, answering the phone still not knowing who’s calling.

“’lo?” his voice is groggy, clouded with sleepiness. He clears his throat as he listens to the faint sound of music playing in the background, his eyebrows furrowing. If it’s one of his friends calling him drunk from some fucking club then he swears to God—

But then there’s a nervous “Nick,” on the other end, and Nick’s heart automatically starts beating faster, his tiredness quickly slipping away, leaving him awake and alert.

“Harry? Love, what’s wrong?” He already sounds more awake, and he sits up in bed, switching the lamp on the bedside table on. He can hear Harry’s frantic breathing and he _knows_ Harry’s at least a little drunk so he says in a – he hopes, at least – calming voice, “Deep breaths for me, love, come on,” and waits until Harry takes a long, deep breath, exhales slowly and repeats a couple more times.

“Tell me what’s going on, what happened, are you hurt?” His mind is already racing, coming up with the worst possible scenarios. He tells himself to calm the fuck down but at the same time his brain is repeating that Harry knows he has work, he wouldn’t call in the middle of the night if it wasn’t something important, he wouldn’t—

He doesn’t expect to hear Harry saying, “I’m fine, but Lou…” and he swears his heart stops for a moment.

“Louis what?” He asks through a lump in his throat and he feels too hot already, a little breathless, like there’s suddenly not enough air in the room for his lungs to work properly, like it’s the beginning of one of his asthma attacks. Because this can’t mean anything good, can it?

His hands are shaking as he grips the phone because he thinks he already knows where this might be going.

“Have you seen the articles?” Harry asks instead of answering and Nick closes his eyes for a moment, because this is exactly what he thought he’d hear and desperately didn’t want to. And yes, Nick has seen them, of course he has. Some blurry pictures of Louis in a club, pressed close to some guy with their lips locked. It made Nick feel sick to his stomach. But what made him even more sick were the shitty articles written about it, which in result lead to an unplanned coming out yesterday morning. Well, kind of. There still hasn’t been any confirmation from their team or Louis himself but there will be soon, probably. Or maybe it’s blurry enough to deny everything. Maybe that’s what they’ll want to do.

What _he_ will want to do.

Nick hasn’t looked at the comments, hasn’t looked for any kind of reaction. He also hasn’t talked to Louis since it happened, but then again, he hasn’t talked to him for much longer than that.

He doesn’t know why Harry’s calling _him_ but the only thing he can say is, “Louis what, Harry?”

“We went out for some drinks, just to a small bar, to try to cheer him up,” he starts, his words slow and slurring a little and Nick wonders if Louis is even more drunk, trying to avoid thinking about his life through alcohol, looking for solace in the bottom of a bottle of vodka. _To cheer him up_ sounds a lot like _to get drunk and try to forget_. “But there were some nasty comments thrown around and now he’s in the bathroom, refusing to talk to anyone.”

Harry sounds small and worried, and Nick can see it so clearly – Louis on the floor of some dirty toilet with his face in his hands, knees drawn close to his chest to make himself as small as possible, to somehow still hold himself together, even while he shakes with tears and embarrassment. He’s seen that before, in his own house, bathroom, bedroom, bed even; Louis completely falling apart and Nick being unable to help, to do anything about that.

“And why are you calling _me_?” he has to ask next because he and Louis aren’t _friends_ , never have been. They’ve hated each other and they’ve fucked and argued and kissed and then pretended to hate each other even more. They’ve cuddled on his couch while watching telly and they’ve played with each other’s emotions, avoided their feelings and used everything they could to hurt each other, to cut as deep as possible, to make it difficult and painful. They’ve teased and they’ve joked.

They’ve been close in many ways. But they’ve never been _friends_.

Only, somewhere along the way Nick’s also managed to fall for him, somehow, and get his heart broken in the process. When Nick suggested telling someone about… about _them_ , whatever the hell they were, Louis panicked and broke things off, saying it’s never really meant anything, that Nick’s never been anything more than a good fuck. After that he stormed out and Nick hasn’t seen him since. And when the pictures of Louis and that guy appeared out of nowhere, Nick’s felt so incredibly stupid for how much it still hurt. It’s been so long and Louis _bloody_ Tomlinson is still stuck in his head. Still refuses to let him go.

Harry knows that. Harry knows about all of it. Nick had called him one night after too much wine and too many tears and too long spent looking at Louis’ pictures. He told him everything, every little detail and Harry was surprised at first, a little bit hurt and a whole lot sad. And even though the words “I’ve fallen for him and he broke my heart,” never passed his lips, Harry somehow knew. He knew and he understood, and the next day he showed up at Nick’s doorstep with comfort food and stupid movies and an overwhelming amount of love and support, hugging him tightly as soon as Nick opened the door. And he didn’t expect them to talk, didn’t expect any further explanation or anything.

Nick just really fucking loves him.

“He…” Harry hesitates and Nick’s already out of his bed, pulling his jeans on while balancing the phone on his shoulder. He glances at the clock and internally curses – three hours left before he’d have to wake up for work.

“He?” Nick prompts, looking around for some jumper and a beanie. There’s some rustling on the other side of the phone and the sound of door opening and closing and the music’s suddenly even quieter, the only thing he can hear being Harry’s breathing and steps and—someone crying. Fuck.

“Lou?” Harry says gently and Nick holds his breath, waiting for any kind of response. There’s a long silence and then knocking on the door. “Will you let me in, Lou?” he seems calm and gentle but Nick hears how much his voice shakes, can recognize how worried he is.

Nick’s almost sure Louis will just ignore him, but—

But then; “Did you call him?”

The thing is, he sounds so _broken_ , so soul-crushingly sad that it feels like something inside of Nick breaks, too. He wants to just reach out, to hold him close, to say that everything is going to be okay. But he doesn’t know if it will. He’s never had to go through something like this and he can’t even imagine how Louis feels right now. Especially since he knows how completely _terrified_ he’s been at a mere mention of coming out. And for that decision to be taken away from him, to be outed like that… _fuck._

He says, “Give him the phone,” before he even has a chance to think about what the hell he’s doing and what he’s going to say.

And then there’s a shaky breathing in his ear, followed by a weak “Nick?” and he’s never wanted to be next to someone as much as he does right now.

He takes a deep breath, exhales a _darling_ and if anything, it seems to only make Louis cry harder.

“Darling,” he repeats, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. “I’m going to come get you, all right? Just wait for me,” he continues, and how fucked up is it that he’s doing all this at two in the morning for a boy who took his heart and shattered it to pieces but who still holds all of them captive, refusing to give them back.

But when Louis chokes out a shaky _please_ , Nick doesn’t even care, he just asks for an address and promises him to be there as fast as possible.

He’s so in love with him it _hurts_.

***

The bathroom is quiet compared to the rest of the club, only a distant thump of the music slipping past the walls. Harry’s left as soon as Nick walked through the door, giving his hand a squeeze on his way out, offering a hopeful smile. Nick just hopes his returning one wasn’t as shaky as he’s feeling right now, as he steps closer to one of the stalls, taking a deep breath and knocking gently.

“Lou?” he asks softly and it doesn’t sound like he’s crying anymore, but the door remains closed. He leans his forehead against it and tries to _think_ because his hands are itching to touch and hold and his heart is beating like it’s trying to escape his chest and get closer to Louis.

“Can you please open the door?” For a moment he wonders if Harry’s still outside or if anyone can just come in, see him – _them_ – like this. He wonders what they’d make out of it, what they’d think about Nick pleading someone to _please just open up, let me in_. He doesn’t know if he only means the door, but it’s not really the right time to think about that.

The lock finally clicks open after what feels like years and when he opens the door, there’s Louis on the floor and he looks exhausted and sad, and Nick just falls to his knees and hugs him, lets Louis cling to him as much as he wants to. He isn’t crying anymore, seems like he’s too tired to do that, like maybe there are no tears left.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says and Louis only nods against his shoulder, lets Nick pull him up from the floor and lead him towards the exit.

It turns out Harry is waiting outside and he sends them a worried glance, opening his mouth, but Nick shakes his head, tightens his arms around Louis. He doesn’t think Louis wants to hear anything Harry might have to say, no matter how lovely and caring he’d be with his words.

He also didn’t think there’d be anyone to take pictures of them but as they step out, they’re met with flashes from phones and cameras, and he curses under his breath because this is probably going to be all over the internet by morning. He doesn’t even wonder why people are here—One Direction’s fans are unusually good at finding them and making a mob, that’s for sure.

He keeps his head low and Louis close and gets into the first taxi he sees. He ignores all the screams and questions and hands trying to grab them, focusing only on getting Louis as far away from there as fast as possible.

“Where to?” the driver asks them as he slowly starts driving, trying to avoid people all around them.

Nick looks at Louis, waiting for an answer.

“Just take me home,” he mumbles against his shoulder, his eyes closing.

Nick gives the driver his own address and Louis doesn’t say a word.

***

As soon as they step into Nick’s flat, Louis pushes him against the door and starts kissing him, pulling at his coat and dropping it to the floor. There’s so much urgency behind his moves, so much need in his kisses and touches. And Nick’s missed him so much, missed having him like that, missed being on the other side of so much pure _need_. But when he presses his hands to Louis’ cheeks he can still feel his dried tears, when he focuses hard enough he notices how hard his hands are shaking as he grips Nick’s hips.

He slows down their movements, takes off Louis’ beanie and jacket, brushes his hair away from his face. He’s so afraid of hurting him, of breaking him even more when he already seems so fragile, so vulnerable, like one bad word or move will completely destroy him.

“Maybe we should talk,” he offers quietly, even though he already knows what the answer will be. So when Louis frantically shakes his head and tries to kiss him again, he takes his face in his hands and strokes his cheek with his thumb, asks, “What do you want, love?”

Louis doesn’t look him in the eye when he whispers, “You.”

So Nick gives him just that.

He kisses him again, more softly this time, guiding them towards his bedroom. He hates how much urgency there is behind Louis’ moves, like he expects Nick to change his mind and push him away, decide that maybe he doesn’t want him anymore. And that’s so fucking ridiculous because Nick doesn’t remember the time when he didn’t want him. It’s so all-consuming, so overwhelming, the need to have Louis close, to be with him. And he wants Louis to know that, but he doesn’t think he can push the words out of his throat, so he hopes he can at least show him.

He slowly takes off Louis clothes and lays him down on his bed, the only source of light being the bedside lamp that he forgot to turn off in his haste to go out. He undresses himself quickly and when he looks up, his breath hitches, because Louis has his hand wrapped loosely around himself, moving slowly, his eyes fixed on Nick. And he’s so fucking beautiful and it’s been so long, Nick’s head feels a bit fuzzy with how much he wants to do to him, _with_ him.

“Are you just going to stand there, then?” Louis’ voice snaps him back to reality and he comes closer, almost letting out a moan as Louis spreads his legs wider, making room for Nick. He crawls between his thighs and kisses his knee, smiling at the shaky breath falling from Louis’ lips.

“Kiss me,” Louis demands but his voice wavers a little, ruining how unaffected by the whole thing he’s trying to sound. He scowls when Nick smirks at him and tugs at Nick’s hair. Nick goes willingly, slotting their lips together. They kiss until Nick can’t feel the alcohol on his tongue anymore, just LouisLouis _Louis_ and the boy is pliant underneath him, no longer trying to take control and speed things up.

He reaches over to his nightstand, taking out a bottle of lube and a condom, leaving the latter beside them and opening the bottle, slicking three of his fingers up. When he looks up, Louis is watching him, lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Everything okay?” he asks because Louis seems nervous, almost, and Nick doesn’t like that, wants him relaxed and comfortable, wanting this as much as he does.

Louis nods, but when Nick doesn’t move from his place, he quietly asks, “Just—slow, yeah?”

“Of course,” Nick replies softly and then kisses Louis again, smiling when he feels him loosen up.

“ _Oh,_ ” Louis breathes out when he feels Nick’s finger brush against his hole, just touching gently, getting him used to the feeling again. When he seems comfortable enough, Nick slowly pushes in, until his whole finger is buried inside Louis, who’s breathing heavily, gently starting to roll his hips. Nick moves then, fucking in and out of him as he leans down to connect their lips again. He crooks his finger up, searching, until Louis cries out and pushes his hips down, asking for more.

Nick complies, sliding another finger inside, working him open. He kisses his neck and when Louis moves his head to the side to give him more access, he bites down, sucking a mark into his skin. Louis lets out a whine, his hips rocking up.

“ _Fuck,_ another,” he pleads, trying to fuck himself down onto his fingers, take more. Nick locks their lips together as he adds the third finger but Louis breaks away from it, throwing his head back and moaning loudly, his hands gripping the sheets. He’s flushed and breathing heavily and Nick chest feels tight with how much he loves him.

He swallows, trying to push the thought away and after a moment pulls his fingers out, reaching for the condom.

“Without,” Louis pleads, trying to knock it out of Nick’s hand. And it hurts to think that they’ve been at that point when they didn’t need one. It hurts to remember how Nick would wake up to a soft, sleepy, needy Louis, pushing back into his morning hard on and how he could just slip back into him, still open from the night before, and how Louis would start moving his hips, fucking himself on Nick’s cock, doing all the work. He would come with a high pitched moan of Nick’s name and tell him not to stop. It hurts to remember how pliant Louis would always get when Nick started to come, fill him up. He’d mewl and keep him close, like he wanted to stay like that for a little bit longer, keep all the come inside of him.

It hurts to say “I’m sorry, love, but we have to,” and to ignore the upset expression crossing Louis’ face as he rolls the condom on. He pours some more lube onto his hand and coats his cock with it, biting his lip to stop himself from groaning when he closes his hand around himself. He feels like he’s on the verge of coming already, just from having Louis under him, in his bed, when he didn’t think it’d happen ever again. He squeezes the base of his cock, letting out a shaky breath.

Louis’ quiet plea of “Nick,” makes him let go of himself and focus his eyes on the naked boy right in front of him, spread open and waiting. The sight makes his mouth dry and he automatically licks his lips, Louis’ eyes tracking the movement.

“Will you just fuck me already?” he huffs, feigning annoyance, making Nick want to make him wait, whisper in his ear all he wants to do to him and then just tease him for hours on end, until he’s shaking and crying and begging, until he finally lets himself fall apart right then and there, because he trusts that Nick is going to put him back together. But there’s that desperate note in his voice that makes Nick think _not tonight._  

So he positions himself over him and moulds their mouths together as he presses in, swallowing every sound slipping past Louis’ lips. He’s slow at first, careful, because Louis asked him to and because he feels _so tight_ around him and Nick doesn’t know if he let himself be with someone else after… after them.

But soon Louis starts moving, meeting Nick’s thrusts and urging him to quicken the pace.

“Just _fuck me_ ,” he grits out, sounding so breathless already and Nick pins his hands to the mattress over his head, his next move slow and deep. Louis moans but he’s still fidgeting around, like he’s trying to take control and that makes Nick stop completely and move his hands to Louis’ hips, stilling the slow circling of them, too.

“Darling, I need you to stay still,” he says sternly, but his voice remains soft, because he knows that Louis wants that, expects that, someone taking care of him. Louis moans at that, tries to get out of Nick’s hold but Nick only presses him harder to the bed, refusing to let go of him, leaning down to kiss him instead. Louis goes pliant after a moment, only letting out a quiet _please_ against his lips and at that Nick starts to move again, the snaps of his hips fast and sure, making Louis cry out.

“Yes, _fuck_ , _please_ ,” he gasps and Nick leans down to kiss him roughly, messily. He loves how hard Louis kisses him back, like he never wants him to stop, like he can’t breathe properly without Nick’s lips on his.

Sometimes it feels like maybe Nick can’t.

He knows he’s hit Louis’ prostate when the boy’s lips fall open and he moans against Nick’s mouth, digging his nails into the flesh of his back, probably leaving marks. He tries to keep the angle and move even faster, going straight for Louis’ spot with every thrust. They’re not even kissing anymore, just panting into each other’s mouths, their groans blending together in the quietness of the room.

“I’m so close,” Louis whimpers, tries to get hold of his cock, hard and leaking all over his belly, but Nick slaps his hand away.

“No touching,” he orders and Louis whines high in his throat, his hands tightly gripping the sheets, like he has to physically stop himself from touching his dick but doesn’t even think about not doing what Nick’s said.

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, Nick’s chest hurts with it.

“Come on, love, come for me,” he whispers into his ear and presses his lips to Louis’ shoulder, bites down. Louis cries out, his hips bucking as he comes all over himself, Nick following right behind.

He’s panting heavily as he pulls out and takes off the condom, tying it up and dropping it on the floor. He can clean it up later. Right now the only thing he’s able to do is collapse on the bed and pull Louis close to his chest, from where he’s slightly shaking on the other side of it. Louis clings to him, like he’s afraid that Nick might let him go, and Nick wants to shake his head and scream at the same time because—because it’s always been the other way around, hasn’t it?

He stays silent and kisses Louis’ forehead, concentrates on the warm skin pressed to his, on the way Louis’ breathing slowly evens out, as he falls asleep.

Nick stares at the ceiling and thinks he’s completely screwed.

***

He wakes up when his alarm goes off and it feels like he’s slept only for a couple of minutes. Which, come to think of it, he probably has.

Louis curses at him to _turn this fucking thing off_ from where he’s curled up under the duvet, pulling it over his head, like he’s trying to block out the noise. Nick rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told.

He tries to get up but Louis catches his wrist, making him stumble a bit. When Nick looks back at him, raising his eyebrows, Louis looks sheepish and he’s biting his lip.

“Can you... Do you have to go today?” he asks quietly. He’s still soft with sleep, his hair ruffled, eyes barely open and there’s a mark on his cheek from where it’s been pressed to the pillow. Nick wants to bang his head against the wall. Repeatedly. It’d probably hurt less than being in love with Louis.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replies and takes his phone as he slips off to the bathroom and closes the door behind himself. It’s not about privacy, or not wanting to talk in front of Louis, not really. It just allows him to have a moment to let himself freak out and then collect himself a bit, calm down before making the call, without looking at Louis’ body wrapped up in the duvet, with the knowledge that he’s completely naked underneath, covered only with love bites that Nick’s given him.

_Christ_.

He calls Matt and says he’s sick and can’t make it today, asking if someone could cover up for him. There’s a bit of silence and then Matt gently asks, “Is your illness called Tomlinson?” and _God_ , he wants to laugh hysterically and say _yes_ because it sure feels like it. Maybe being in love actually is one. Maybe he should see a doctor and ask how to get his heart back.

But instead he says, “So, is it okay if I stay home today?” and hangs up as soon as he hears _yeah, of course_. He goes back to bed, closes his eyes and tries not to think.

***

When Nick wakes up again, the other side of the bed is empty.

Panic immediately starts to build inside his chest, because _fuck, no,_ he won’t let Louis do this to him again. He buries his face in the pillow, inhales the smell of the other boy and it’s almost like he can still feel his touch on his skin, like maybe he’s left permanent marks somehow, like Nick won’t ever be able to get rid of them. It makes him want to cry a bit, makes his insides hurt, sadness settle in his bones. And it’s fucked up how much his heart rate speeds up when he hears quiet footsteps coming from the hall, slowly getting louder and louder as the approaching person gets closer to the bedroom.

Louis slips inside, trying to be quiet and Nick watches him, wearing only Nick’s shirt with nothing underneath (so fucking _big_ on him, Christ), his hands curled around a steaming cup of tea. His expression turns to unsure when he notices Nick’s already awake.

“Thought you sneaked out again,” Nick says in lieu of good morning or anything else and he immediately feels like shit when Louis curls into himself, his shoulders hunching. He looks so vulnerable and easily breakable. God, Nick wants to protect him from the world.

“I’m sorry,” Louis mutters and Nick can tell that he means it.

“Come here,” Nick opens his arms, beckoning Louis in and a little part of him expects him to refuse, to start fighting again, maybe look at Nick with disgust or pity in his eyes. But Louis just silently leaves his cup on the bedside table and crawls into bed, burying his head in the crook between Nick’s neck and shoulder and lets him hold him close, draw slow, calming patterns into the skin of his back.

They’re silent for a while and Louis can’t stop moving around. If Nick didn’t know any better, he’d say he wants to get even closer, like they’re not already pressed together from head to toe.

He does know better, though. Now he does.

“What’s with the fidgeting?” he eventually asks and Louis immediately stills.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“No, darling,” Nick interrupts, somehow managing to bring him closer to himself. The last thing he wants is to push him away or make him feel bad or embarrassed about his feelings. God, he wants to give him the whole fucking world and more.

He deserves it.

“Tell me,” he whispers, because he’s afraid to say it louder, like it’ll break something between them, this fragile moment, whatever it is. They didn’t have many of those, at least not many not ending with Louis leaving and Nick looking for answers to _what the fuck am I doing_ in a bottle of wine.

“I—Can you check the press’ reaction with me? And maybe, like, fans? Twitter?” He asks quietly and Nick’s heart clenches at how _scared_ he sounds. And that’s new. Louis’ showing himself like that, while they’re not having sex. It’s new and it feels good, like a little step forward.

He’s afraid there’s already something about the two of them leaving the club, pictures of Louis pressed into his side, rumours about what all of that means, considering their past and in the light of recent events.

He still nods, kisses the top of his head. “Of course.”

And they do. They go through a lot and it’s not bad. Most articles are positive but there are some disgusting comments that make Louis shut down and quietly cry into Nick’s shoulder. There are even more supportive ones, saying how much they love and appreciate him, how this doesn’t change who he is, how he’s still as beautiful and wonderful and talented as he’s ever been, and those seem to make him cry even harder, cling to Nick’s side a little bit more. He lets him. He lets him go on many, many websites, whichever he wants and lets out a sigh of relief when there’s nothing about the two of them. Not yet. But when he tries to go on twitter, Nick grabs his wrist and takes his phone away.

“Maybe it’s enough for today,” he suggests gently because twitter is a fucked up place sometimes. He thinks about his mentions and One Direction’s fans sending him homophobic slurs and death threats whenever he’s around Harry and he really doesn’t want Louis to see things like that. Not now, not ever.

Also, news seem to appear on twitter much faster than in articles and he’s pretty sure the pictures of them are already there. His own twitter is probably blowing up by now.

If Louis has any protests, Nick kisses them away, licking his way into his mouth and sneaking his hand under the duvet, under the hem of his shirt to press his thumb into Louis’ hipbone. Louis hums and kisses him harder, presses closer and Nick can feel that he’s already getting hard against his thigh.

“Let me take care of you,” he says but what he means is _I want to fuck you up a bit_. Louis probably knows that if the way he’s bucking his hips into Nick’s touch is any indication.

So he takes Louis’ shirt off and takes his time trailing his lips down Louis’ body, marking his way down, stopping to softly nibble on his little tummy. Louis immediately tries to cover himself up and push Nick away but Nick ignores him, holding his wrists together, which in result makes Louis’ breath hitch.

He sucks a bruise next to Louis’ belly button and only then does he let go, shuffling ever lower. He kisses Louis’ thighs, leaving lovebites on his way and Louis is squirming slightly but it’s nothing compared to the moment when Nick finally spreads his cheeks and licks a long stripe across his hole.

Louis’ body goes completely still for a moment and then he just _melts_ into the bed, moaning loudly as Nick kisses and licks and slowly presses in, his tongue working him open. But when Louis’ hand makes it way to Nick’s hair, trying to get him even deeper inside himself, Nick pulls back, looking at his hole clenching around nothing and listening to Louis’ whine in protest.

“Hands over your head, come on, be a good boy,” he mutters and Louis whimpers brokenly at that but complies nonetheless. He’s always so good, so obedient in bed, giving Nick all the control, letting him take over, take care of him. Sometimes Nick feels drunk on it, overwhelmed with how wonderful Louis is and how, even though it’s not easy for him, he shows this side of himself, shares it with Nick.

A strong wave of fondness suddenly hits him, and he feels so much love for this boy in front of him that he has to crawl back up his body to connect their lips. Louis breathes in sharply, probably thinking how the same tongue that’s been in his arse is now nudging against where his lips are pressed together, but he opens up anyway, letting Nick lick inside.

They just kiss for a while, hot and messy, but after a moment Louis starts wriggling again, mewling a _please_ and, well, how is Nick supposed to say no to _that_?

He pecks him one last time on the lips, repeats “hands over your head, love” and gets his mouth back on Louis’ hole.

Louis always says how much he loves it when Nick rims him, how good it feels. Sometimes he gets embarrassed about how loud he can get and right now he can’t stay still or quiet but Nick doesn’t even have the heart to tell him off as he listens to the sweet sounds he’s making, so he just places his hand on Louis’ abdomen and gently presses down.

If anything, it only makes Louis louder, makes him push his hips down against Nick’s mouth.

He cries out as Nick fucks his tongue in and out of him and he’s so fucking _loud_ but Nick loves it.

Loves _him_.

“F—fuck, Nick, I’m gonna...” his moan turns into a desperate whine when Nick pulls back and sits up, leaving him shaking and breathless.

And fuck if Louis isn’t a vision to behold; he already looks devastated, his eyes shiny, his body sweaty and flushed, arched as he grips the bed frame tightly, keeping his hands over his head, just like Nick’s told him to. His cock is rock hard and angrily red and it must hurt, he must be so desperate to come.

“N—no, please, _please,_ ” he’s begging for something and when Nick asks, _what do you need, darling?_ he answers _to come_ and _you_.

So Nick gives him his mouth, sucking on the head of his cock and tonguing at the slit and then taking him down, down, _down._ Louis whimpers when he hits the back of his throat and Nick swallows around him, hums, vibrations travelling down Louis’ cock, making him whimper. Nick can see how close he is, how hard he’s trying not to just fuck into Nick’s mouth, his legs shaking.

“Nick,” he groans one more time and then he’s coming, spilling down Nick’s throat and he swallows everything, keeps sucking until Louis’ oversensitive, weakly trying to push him away.

He kisses the tip of his spent cock and then lies down on the bed, Louis immediately climbing on him and moulding their lips together, as he reaches into Nick’s pants.

He moans, and whether it’s from tasting himself on Nick’s tongue or because of how painfully hard Nick is in his grip, Nick doesn’t know.

He fucks into Louis’ fist and he’s so fucking close already, it only takes a few strokes for him to blurt out, “get on your back.”

Louis looks at him a bit surprised but does as he’s told, rolling off of him and lying down on the pillows.

Nick straddles his chest and his eyes widen when he realises where this is going.

He wraps his hand around himself and starts tugging at his cock, moans when Louis closes his eyes and opens his mouth, waiting. He can’t help himself, he brings his dick to Louis’ lips and slowly slips past them but Louis doesn’t even hesitate before closing his mouth around the head and sucking, swirling his tongue, trying to take more in. Nick pulls back just as his orgasm hits him, waves of pleasure surging through his body as his come spurts on Louis’ cheeks, tongue and lips, that he immediately licks.

“Christ.”

He collapses on the bed and Louis sighs contently, cuddling into Nick’s side as he reaches for the tissues to wipe Louis’ face. He’s soft and pliant in his arms and Nick swallows all the questions he has, pushes them to the back of his throat. But then Louis mumbles _I missed you_ and Nick thinks that maybe asking them wouldn’t be the end of the world.

He wets his lips before he speaks.

“Why did you leave, then?”

The room gets so quiet Nick thinks he can hear the fast thumping of his heart, can feel Louis’ own pulse quicken under his fingertips.

He thinks he fucked it all up, that they shouldn’t be having this conversation right know, he wants to open his mouth and apologise but Louis beats him to it.

“I’m sorry,” he says and he sounds like he desperately wants Nick to believe him. “I was—I _am_ so scared, Nick, I—“

“Shhh,” he silences him, because he can feel him tense up again and he doesn’t want that. He wants Louis to trust him, to feel like he can tell Nick anything because he’ll understand, or at least he’ll try to. And it’s fucked up because they’re not like that, are they, never have been. And Nick’s shit at the whole relationship thing, no matter how much he thinks he might want it with Louis.

But right now he just wants Louis to stay relaxed and to maybe kiss him a bit.

“You’ll be alright, darling,” he tells him because that’s what Nick needs Louis to believe. That no matter how difficult and terrifying it all seems right now, eventually it’ll be okay. _He_ will be okay.

“Will _we_?” Louis asks and Nick stomach turns because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what Louis means by _we_ but there’s hope starting to bloom inside of him and he’s afraid it might swallow him whole, crush him when it gets too big.

That doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Louis even tighter and whispering, “Yeah. Yeah, we will,” before bringing him in for a kiss.

He desperately hopes he isn’t wrong.

***

When he comes back from work the next day, after calling Collette to apologise, promising to come pick Pig up tonight and to explain why there are pictures of him and Louis everywhere as soon as he can, Harry’s sitting on his couch, cuddling Louis close to his chest. There are two empty mugs on the table in front of them and some movie playing quietly in the background. It makes him pause because—because they’ve never been around other people and Nick has no idea what Louis wants, how he expects him to act.

Finally, when just standing silently in the doorway becomes a little too creepy, he moves into the room, putting on his best smile and greeting Harry with a kiss on the cheek and fond, “What are you doing on my couch, Styles?”

“Invited by this one, complaining about how you left him all alone,” Harry replies and Nick knows he’s just teasing, he _knows_ but it still makes something unpleasantly turn in his stomach because, fuck, he never wants Louis to feel like that, like he’d just get up and leave him.

It makes his eyes flicker down to Louis, who looks all small and soft in Nick’s jumper, as he blushes slightly and doesn’t quite meet Nick’s eyes. After a moment of hesitation he kisses him on the forehead but at that Louis makes a low sound in the back of his throat and lifts his head, puckers his lips a bit, it’d be barely noticeable if Nick wasn’t already looking at them.

And... _oh_. That’s definitely something new.

So Nick kisses him softly, stroking his cheek with his thumb and Louis pushes into it, brings him close, like maybe he wants to say _I missed you_ or _Don’t leave again._

Maybe it’s just Nick imagination, though, or the hope that by now is threatening to choke him.

He wants to say _I’m in love with you_ , feels it on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it back down, kisses him harder instead, like maybe it’ll make Louis understand, somehow hear it anyway.

“Hey, I’m happy for you and all, but this is getting awkward,” Harry mumbles from where he still has one of his arms around Louis’ waist. Louis laughs into Nick’s mouth, leaning back against Harry’s chest and Nick suddenly feels like he can’t breathe.

He can’t fucking breathe because he’s used to Louis freaking out and leaving, he’s used to banter and teasing and he’s used to the two of them being alone. He doesn’t know how to deal with _this_ , with Louis looking at him with crinkled eyes and a soft smile while Harry watches the two of them with so much fondness in his eyes. It feels too _real_ and Nick’s promised himself not to let himself fall for that again.

“More tea?” he asks in a slightly panicked voice and then goes to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, taking their mugs with him. He rests his hands on one of the counters, closes his eyes and takes deep breathes, trying to make the room stop spinning and maybe his own life, too, while he’s at it.

After a while he hears quiet footsteps and someone tentatively touching his arm. He could laugh at how he instantly knows it isn’t Louis, would recognise his touch everywhere.

Fuck, he needs to get a grip.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks gently, turning Nick around to face him. He searches his face for something, Nick has no idea what, but maybe he finds it because after a moment he sighs and pulls him in for a hug. Nick sinks into it, lets himself be held because he’s just so _tired_.

“What did he say to you?”

“Hmm?”

“What did he say, when he called? When you were sitting there together?”

Harry bites his lip and his eyes flicker to where Louis is sitting just behind the wall, in the other room. He hesitates, like he doesn’t know what he is and isn’t allowed to say.

“I think you two have a lot you should talk about,” he eventually says and Nick knows that. He knows that but it doesn’t make him any less scared.

“He terrifies me,” he admits quietly and Harry nods sadly, but doesn’t say anything, just holds him a little bit tighter.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that but eventually they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat and they look back to see Louis standing in the doorway, playing with the hem of his jumper. When he sees they’ve noticed him, he comes closer, touches Nick’s hip lightly, asks, “Everything okay?” and he looks uncertain, like maybe he thinks he isn’t allowed to ask.

They’re so fucked up, this whole thing between them. God, they really need to talk.

Nick just mutters a _yeah_ and kisses him gently, still expecting him to freak out about Harry seeing them together and push him away but Louis just gets on his tiptoes, kisses him back.

“Okay, break it off, the two of you,” Harry says, pretending to be exasperated, but Nick can hear the smile in his voice.

When Louis steps back, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright and Nick feels like his heart is too big for his chest, like it’s going to jump out of it, straight into Louis’ hands (as if it doesn’t already belong to him) with a quiet plea of _please don’t be careless with me._

“Did you bring any food?” Louis asks, breaking the heavy mood slowly settling over them and Nick lets out a breath, grateful for distraction.

“Yeah, I left the bags next to the door, I’ll go get them,” he brushes his fingers over Louis’ waist as he leaves the room and pretends not to notice Louis trying to hide his smile.

They spend the next hour cooking. Or, he and Harry cook and Louis sits on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth and being generally distracting. He jokes and interrupts them and messes around and asks for kisses and Nick doesn’t think he’s ever seen him like this before. He doesn’t quite know how to act with this Louis but from the way Harry keeps smiling at the two of them, he supposes he’s doing alright. When they’re on the other side of the room, pretending not to notice Louis trying to sneakily eat some cookie dough straight from the bowl with his fingers, he mumbles a quiet _thank you_ and Harry just shakes his head.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he replies, smiling. “Now go tell your boy to stop eating that if he doesn’t want to have a stomachache later,” he adds, looking over Nick’s shoulder and if his heart beats a little faster when he repeats in his head _your boy,_ well, no one has to know.

They curl up together on the couch, Louis' head on Nick’s shoulder and his feet in Harry’s lap, watching some movie with Louis’ loud commentary.

He lets himself hope.

When he comes back with Pig later, he watches Louis laugh delightedly when she jumps on the couch next to him and tries to lick his face. He talks to her in silly voices and pets her and Nick’s face hurts from how much he’s smiling. He thinks maybe she’s missed him, too.

“Your dog loves me more than you,” Louis announces proudly and Nick just rolls his eyes and goes to the kitchen to make tea.

He comes back to Louis curled up on the couch, hugging Pig and watching telly, and he definitely doesn’t think how much he’d like to get used to that.

***

When he stirs awake the next morning, the sun’s already slipping past the blinds and Louis’ clutching his phone is his hand, with a frown on his face. Nick’s immediately alarmed, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the rest of the sleepiness before clearing his throat and asking in a hoarse voice, “What happened?”, automatically reaching out to gently touch Louis’ waist.

Louis jumps a little, like he forgot he’s not alone in the bed, but doesn’t push him away, thank God. He looks at Nick from under his fringe, biting his lip and Nick’s breath definitely does not get caught in his throat. He’s woken up to Louis many times by now; he’s completely used to how blue his eyes look and how delicate he seems, softer and quieter, with his ruffled hair and rumpled shirt and rosy cheeks. Of course he is.

“There’s been some…” Louis starts and then cuts himself off, like he’s trying to think of a good way to put his words. Nick waits patiently, stroking his hipbone with his fingertips. “Some articles. About us going out of that club together,” he finally finishes and Nick… well, he just stays silent, looking straight at the boy in his bed and wondering what he’ll say next. He ponders for a moment whether he should inform Louis that his next words might decide the future of their… whatever it is between them, really, since they still haven’t talked about it. He wonders if Louis’ already realised he’s clutching Nick’s heart in his hands and how slippery and shaky they seem to be most of the time.

But when he opens his mouth, the words leaving it are, “And how do you feel about it?” He almost wants to take it back when Louis looks back at him, scared and insecure. He doesn’t, though. He swallows loudly when Louis opens and closes his mouth a couple times, and maybe Louis notices he’s not the only one worried and unsure about it because he slowly places his hand over Nick’s, not intertwining their fingers but it’s there, a comforting weight.

“I don’t know,” Louis admits and at least he’s honest. “They all imply we’ve had a one night stand and ask if you’re cheating with me on Harry,” his brows furrow at that and before Nick can stop himself, he laughs quietly. Louis sends him a surprised and a bit hurt look so he hurries to explain.

“Me and Harry were _never_ a thing. We’ve never even _kissed_ , we’ve never been more than best friends, the whole thing is ridiculous,” he starts slowly and he’s had to explain this so many times he almost rolls his eyes. “But yeah, you and I were known for hating each other publicly so the only explanation that’s worth writing for them is a one night stand, now that you’re out…” he shrugs but then there’s a sharp intake of breathe and when he turns his eyes to Louis again, he looks _terrified._

“I’m out,” he repeats, like it’s just hit him, like he’s only just now realised, like saying it out loud changed something. “Nick, fuck, I’m _out_.”

And then he starts crying.

Nick tugs him closer to himself, taking him into his arms and Louis just slumps against him, crying and sometimes repeating, “I’m out, God, I’m _out._ ” At one point, in between new waves of tears, he chokes out, “If you didn’t want Harry, how could you ever want me?” and Nick’s heart breaks all over again.

_Because I’m in love with you_ , he thinks _. Because no one makes me feel like you do. Because you’re able to make me the happiest and the saddest I could possibly be. Because I don’t ever want you to leave again._

He doesn’t say any of that. He says, “I just do,” and kisses Louis’ forehead.

He calms down after a bit, untangling himself from Nick’s body and rolling onto the other side of the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I need to finally go out. Have some meetings probably. Show to the world. Harry said they’re giving me some time but everyone expects me to show up, discuss… things. Make a statement.” He tries to sound comfortable and confident but he really, really doesn’t. So Nick asks the first thing that comes to his mind, something he’d offer to all of the people he cares about. He asks, “Do you want me to go with you?” and wishes he didn’t, when Louis immediately says _no_ , shaking his head like a mere thought of Nick showing up with him somewhere is the worst thing that could ever happen.

_He’s ashamed of you,_ his brain screams and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. _He didn’t mind Harry because Harry already knew about you, but he doesn’t want other people to know, he doesn’t want you, nothing’s changed._

“Alright,” Nick eventually replies with a tight throat. “Alright,” he repeats as he rolls out of bed and goes into the bathroom, turning the shower on and trying to take some calming breaths as he waits for the water to be the right temperature. And then he takes off his clothes and steps inside, wanting to concentrate on the hot water hitting his skin and nothing else.

He doesn’t hear the door opening but then there’s Louis, wrapping his arms around Nick from behind and resting his cheek against Nick's back. He closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath when Louis kisses the same spot, a silent apology.

He should tell him to go, should demand for them to talk, to sort things out. Louis messes with his head and he doesn’t know what they are, what they’re doing, what he can and can’t expect. But Louis holds him close and kisses the column of his throat and apparently decides to leave a mark and Nick definitely doesn’t think how it’s still going to be visible when he goes to work on Monday, when he goes shopping later today. Louis feels solid and warm against him and Nick doesn’t want him to let him go.

So he stays quiet and lets himself be held.

***

Louis looks up from where he’s playing with Pig on the floor when Nick picks up his keys. They haven’t really talked that much after the morning, Nick deciding to do some stuff for work and Louis just wandering around the house and making the bloody dog fall even more in love with him. Nick sometimes thinks that’s the thing Louis does with everyone, that it’s just a part of who he is—making others admire and love him instantly. He wonders if he’s ever really had a chance not to fall and if he could do something to make it a bit less painful.

Probably not.

Right now Louis is dressed in sweatpants and another one of Nick’s shirts, his hair falling softly over his forehead. He looks tired and small and Christ, Nick’s so gone for him.

“Going somewhere?” he asks and Nick can’t see anything in his eyes. It makes him feel uneasy, always does, when Louis refuses to show himself, when he makes it so hard to figure out what’s right and wrong.

“Shopping, we—there’s barely any food left,” he shrugs. He doesn’t ask _how long are you planning on staying here?_ or _do you want to go with me?_ Maybe he’s afraid of the answers or maybe just of hearing what he already knows. What he asks is, “Do you want me to get you anything?” and hopes Louis can’t see that even a stupid little thing like shopping makes his chest physically ache. He wonders if it ever stops.

Louis hesitates for a moment, looks like he wants to say something but then thinks better of it, bites his lip.

“Cereal,” is what he finally settles on and Nick isn’t even disappointed that he didn’t suggest them going together. It’d be surprising the other way around, really. And, well, that’s a bit sad, isn’t it? “And tea,” he adds, his lips quirking up into a small smile and Nick rolls his eyes.

“So unexpected,” he mumbles and then pauses for a moment, just looking at Louis, before he thinks _fuck it_ and leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he straightens up, there’s something flickering in Louis’ eyes, but it’s gone too fast to be recognised.

Nick doesn’t spend the whole way to the shop thinking about it.

He doesn’t.

***

It’s another week before Louis disappears.

Nick thinks that maybe he should have expected that, shouldn’t let it hit him as hard. But he managed to get used to their little life together and their routine over the days spent together, when he’d wake up for work and shush Louis’ complains about his alarm being too loud and ringing _in the middle of the fucking night, Nick_. He’d get ready and kiss Louis on the corner of his mouth or forehead, leaving him tea on the bedside table. And sometimes Louis would pull him in, make Nick kiss him until Nick was almost late and Louis completely pliant and relaxed underneath him. Then Louis would wake up and send him some stupid comments about the show or songs suggestions and Nick’s chest would ache a bit thinking about Louis sitting on his couch with Pig, listening to him. Then he would come home and they’d spend time together, often not really doing anything, just being in each other’s company. There was one day when Nick had meetings all day and Louis went to spend some time with his boys but it ended up like any other night, with the two of them curled up around each other in bed, sharing gentle kisses and tentative touches that sometimes turned into something more and sometimes just finished with a quiet _goodnight._ And it was so familiar, it was so easy to fall into how things used to be between them before it all went to shit. Come to think of it, Nick probably should’ve known better. He should’ve expected it after Louis came back from the meeting with the management last night, acting all weird and quiet, shrugging off every question and kissing him instead. And there’s been something in that kiss, something in the way they had sex later, slow and soft, that made his stomach tie up in knots. There’s been something in the way Louis clung to him just a little more in the morning, like he’s already known it might be the last time.

Because when he comes home from work, Louis’ not here. He’s still not there when he goes to sleep and wakes up the next morning and the next one. There’s also no answer to his texts and no signs of Louis ever being in his house beside an unwashed mug and a jumper thrown over the backrest of the couch.

And it’s—whatever. It’s not like Nick’s expected him to stay forever, it’s not like they’ve been in a relationship. Louis just needed a place to stay, someone to kiss and fuck and Nick’s always been good at that. He’s never been anything more and he _knows_ that, thinks it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

So he goes on with his life. Or at least he tries. He goes to work and tries to sound happy and chirpy, banters with Finchy, teases his guests. He avoids all the love songs and any rumours about One Direction. He tweets every day but stays away from his mentions. He doesn’t go out with his friends, saying he’s busy and hides in his flat instead. They worry and want to help but he doesn’t think he’s ready for that yet, for all the pitying looks and promises how it’ll eventually be fine. He _is_ fine. He just needs some time and to pull his head out of his arse. For now though, he stays home and cuddles Pig and drains wine bottles. (One night when he’s completely pissed he calls Harry and asks if that’s what love feels like and then begs him to take it away from him, to make it stop hurting so much. They don’t talk about it later, even if Harry keeps sending him sad smiles and worried looks. He’s _fine._ )

Somewhere along the way there’s an official confirmation about Louis’ sexuality and a request to please respect his privacy. All of the boys stay under the radar and there aren’t any new pictures of Louis anywhere. Stupidly, Nick wishes there were, because he wants to see. He wants to see how Louis is doing, he wants to see if there are bags under his eyes, the sad tilt to his smile, if he keeps his guard up at every second. Mostly he just misses him and wants to see his face but isn’t ready to get as low as to google his pictures or videos from tour.

Harry visits him sometimes but they don’t talk about it. He tries to separate his Louis world and Harry world and it works. Two and a half week after Louis’ disappearance he finally accepts Collette’s invitation and goes out for some drinks with their friends. They all hug him tightly and pretend like he didn’t just ignore them for quite some time. He dances with them and gets drunk and kisses some guy and then comes home and pretends the reason for brushing his teeth isn’t getting rid of the unfamiliar taste of that guy’s lips, just, you know. Oral hygiene.

The next time they go out, his friends try to hook him up with someone. He spends the first two hours faking smiles and pretending to be at least a little interested in the guys Aimee’s pointing out. Eventually one of them approaches him and offers to buy him a drink and the thing is, the man is _gorgeous,_ objectively speaking. So he accepts the drink and chats to him and tries to convince himself that he can do this. That he can take this guy home and fuck him and not look for another person’s features in him, not pretend it’s someone else. But when he leans closer, trying to capture Nick’s lips in a kiss, Nick turns his head to the side. He mutters _sorry_ , orders a bottle of tequila and goes on the roof.

He sits on the ground, ignoring the cold and wrapping one arm around himself as he slowly empties the bottle. He tries to concentrate on the burning in his throat instead of the one inside his chest. He can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his friends looking for him but when he finally takes it out, he’s drunk and ignores all the messages, calling Louis instead.

He doesn’t expect him to actually pick up, since he hasn’t done that before, so maybe that’s why he’s stunned into silence when he hears a voice on the other side of the phone. It’s not Louis, though, it’s a female voice and he doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello? Nick?” the person keeps asking and Nick swallows, takes a deep breath and lets out a quiet _yeah._ Everything’s a bit blurry around him and he feels sick so he closes his eyes.

“It’s Louis’ mum, you’re calling in the middle of the night, darling,” the woman says softly and Nick almost laughs because it’s just his luck that his first conversation with Louis’ mum is over the phone when they don’t even talk to each other anymore and when Nick’s completely pissed.

“Sorry,” he mutters and his tongue feels heavy, his mind blank as he struggles to come up with any explanation. “I’m sorry, I haven’t thought about how late it is,” his words are slurring together and he wants to bang his head against the wall. He doesn’t want Louis’ mum to hate him, even if it shouldn’t matter anymore.

“It’s alright, love. Are you drunk?” She doesn’t sound mad, just worried, maybe, and Nick nods before he remembers she can’t exactly see him. He mumbles some kind of confirmation and hears her sigh.

“He cares about you, you know,” is what she eventually settles on saying. There’s a lump in Nick’s throat and an itch in his chest that no amount of alcohol or one night stands could scratch and he can’t listen to her saying things like that when Louis can’t be bothered to even answer his texts.

“I—I should go,” his voice is shaky and Jay – he thinks he remembers Louis saying his mum’s called Jay – is silent for a moment. He thinks that maybe he should just ring off when she speaks again.

“Do you have someone to get you home safely?” she asks and her voice is soft, warm. Nick has no idea how much she knows, wasn’t even aware she knew who he is, but he thinks she should hate him, maybe. Louis probably does.

Christ, he really shouldn’t be thinking about this.

He replies that yeah, he’s with his friends and they’ll take care of him. Before he can say his goodbye though, she says, “Give him some time, love, he’ll come around,” and Nick just whispers _goodnight_ with a tight throat and a heavy heart.

He stumbles back inside, finds Collette and spends an entire drive back home crying into her shirt. She stays on his couch, makes him coffee in the morning, goes with him on a walk with Pig and doesn’t ask any questions.

Nick really loves his friends.

He sends Louis one message saying _please tell your mum I’m sorry about last night, she’s very lovely_ and spends his afternoon curing his hangover by drinking more wine and texting Harry random emojis.

He’s alright.

***

It’s three days later when Louis shows up with a sheepish expression and a small backpack slung over his shoulder. He looks small and tired but there’s also something in his eyes that Nick can’t quite put a name on. It looks like determination, maybe. Hope, a bit. Fear, not hidden well enough.

Nick just stares at him for a moment and then almost pinches himself because he thinks it might be just too much wine causing his brain to play such tricks on him. But when he closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and takes a deep breath and then opens them again, Louis’ still there, real and himself and looking even more unsure than in the beginning. He’s biting his lip and Nick has to remind himself why he shouldn’t brush his thumb across it to stop him from doing that.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just looking at each other but eventually Louis clears his throat, asks, “Can I come in?” and Nick contemplates telling him to fuck off and shutting the door in his face. In the end, he just silently moves to the side to let him walk past him. When Louis disappears into the living room, Nick closes the door and rests his forehead against it for a moment, trying to get his heart to slow down, to ignore the sound of Louis talking to Pig in a silly voice, like he always used to.

It doesn’t really work.

“What are you doing here, then?” Nick asks as he leans against the doorway. Louis’ on the floor, scratching Pig’s head as she stares at him adoringly. At the sound of Nick’s voice he looks up and his smiles fades a bit.

“I talked to my mum,” he says like it explains everything but it really doesn’t. The silence is apparently enough to make him realise that, because he sighs, stands up. He doesn’t come closer though and Nick doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed. He’s pretty sure that if Louis kissed him now, he’d just let him, like nothing happened, even if he knows he shouldn’t.

“After the meeting with management I went to visit my mum, as you already know,” Louis says, bringing Nick back to the current situation and, right. They’re supposed to talk. God, Nick really missed him.

But it hurts, that Louis says it so casually, like he just decided to see his family, not like he was running away and stomping all over Nick’s heart and everything they’ve had. Whatever that was.

“At first she didn’t ask about anything, you know. She’d obviously seen the articles and heard the rumours but she wanted me to feel ready to tell her myself,” he continues and shuffles towards the couch. He sits down and hugs a pillow to his chest, like he’s trying to somehow protect himself with it and it just makes Nick really fucking sad.  He wants to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him it’s okay. But he stays silent, sits next to him and puts his hands under his thighs, so he doesn’t feel so tempted to touch.

“I spent most of the time looking after my youngest siblings and spending time with the older girls. I didn’t check my phone, didn’t talk to anyone. Kind of wanted to hide in my bed and never show to the world again,” he laughs bitterly and Nick’s heart clenches.

“And then one night I was sitting just with my mum, watching something on telly and I just said ‘they’re putting out an official statement that I’m gay tomorrow _’._ And she hugged me. She didn’t say she was sorry, she didn’t have to ask how I felt to know, she didn’t try to assure me that it’d all be good and positive. She just held me and rubbed my back until I mumbled ‘I ran away from someone _’_.”

There it is. Nick feels like running away now, as he listens to the quiet words falling from Louis’ lips. He feels like maybe calling the whole thing off, telling him to leave. But Louis’ here and he’s trying and maybe Nick doesn’t really want him to leave. Ever. It’s a scary thought, that.

He stays.

“I told her about you, about how scared I was. _Am_ , still,” he says next and he’s not looking at Nick, his eyes turned down towards his lap where he’s playing with his fingers nervously. Nick has to pinch himself not to reach out for him.

“She was much more understanding that I deserved, you know. She told me to just think about it, if me being scared should stop me from taking my chance to be happy and kept hugging me. And then you called,” he finally looks up and Nick feels like maybe he should say something, explain himself but when he opens his mouth, Louis shakes his head, stops him.

“Let me finish, yeah?”

He nods.

“She… she gave me a proper talking-to. Said she loves me and I have the right to be confused and try to figure myself out but I can’t keep hurting you like that,” he keeps fixing his fringe and by now Nick knows it means he’s nervous. But Nick is, too, feels like he’s going to throw up from how scared he is of hearing what Louis’ decision is. And it shouldn’t be like that, he shouldn’t doubt that Louis will choose him. But he does and he’s fucking terrified of getting his heart broken once again. Maybe it’d be better if Louis never showed up at all.

Stupidly, Nick’s glad Louis did no matter what, even if he ends up even more hurt. He missed him so much and just having him here, so close, is almost too much and never enough.

He wants to kiss him so, so badly.

“What’s your decision then?” he eventually asks and they both pretend his voice doesn’t shake.

“Mum is right, I need to figure myself out,” he starts and Nick nods, looks away. But then there’s a gentle, hesitant hand holding his, intertwining their fingers together. “But maybe—maybe I could do that with you. If you want. If you want me, still.”

When Nick turns towards him again, Louis looks small and unsure and like maybe he’ll fall apart if Nick says no, like he’s afraid of hearing that Nick stopped… wanting him. Loving him.

Everything always just comes back to loving him, doesn’t it?

“You can’t leave me again,” Nick says. “If we’re doing this, you can’t just not talk to me about things and then get up and leave. You can’t keep disappearing. You can’t keep acting like I’m just a casual fuck when you need someone. You can’t—you can’t keep breaking my fucking heart, Lou,” it’s the closest thing to admitting his feelings he ever let himself say and it’s terrifying.

“I’m sorry, “ Louis says and his voice is thick, like maybe he’s trying to hold his emotions in, too. Tears, maybe. Nick wishes he wouldn’t, wishes he could make Louis believe that he can trust him, that he’s the only one who’s even made Nick slow down and want to have something more. Who made him think about commitment and family and waking up next to someone for the rest of his life.

He wishes Louis would realise he’s not the only one who thinks about running and who’s scared shitless.

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” he moves closer and Nick thinks that maybe he shouldn’t forgive him so easily, not again. But his heart beats faster when Louis squeezes his hand, his head spins when Louis quietly asks, “Can I kiss you?” because he sounds desperate, like maybe he missed this, _them_ , just as much as Nick did.

So he nods, places his hands on Louis’ hips when he sits on his lap and pretends having him so close again isn’t making it hard to breathe. Louis runs his hands through his hair and normally he’d scowl at him for ruining his hair but today he doesn’t care, today he just wants to feel his lips again, to feel him pressed close to him, feel the warmth radiating off his body.

Louis brushes his fingers across Nick’s eyelids, cheekbones and lips, his hand shaking slightly, and then he mutters _fuck_ and kisses him.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Nick tightens his hold on him and Louis moans quietly, presses closer, kisses harder.

Nick never wants him to let go.

***

The thing is, it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed.

It’s been two weeks since Louis came back and it’s been good, it has, but. It’s still only the two of them, it’s still only Harry visiting them and sending him soft and a little sad smiles, it’s Louis leaving when any of Nick’s friends come around, it’s Louis going out every time he wants to meet his friends. And Nick doesn’t expect everyone to know, not yet, doesn’t expect Louis to yell from the rooftops that they’re together but. But he wants people to know, he wants to talk to his friends, wants to meet up with the rest of the boys and kiss Louis right in front of them. He wants to go out with him and have lunch or dinner or go shopping together. He wants Louis to meet his _parents._

He doesn’t want to get Louis only when they’re alone at home, like he’s some dirty secret, shameful thing that’s eventually going to disappear without anyone knowing it’s even been there.

So when Louis asks what’s wrong, he tells him. They’ve been working on this whole communication thing.

“Look, Lou, I understand it’s hard for you,” he continues when Louis’ silent, looking anywhere but at Nick. He doesn’t mention that Louis’ already out, that the hardest thing is already past him. They’ve talked about it, too, about the public’s reaction, about how it feels, how _he_ felt, still does. Nick knows how terrifying that is, but he also knows how relieving. He knows Louis feels like that, too. “But you have to understand you’re not the only one who’s fucking terrified of how things will turn out.”

Louis still isn’t looking at him. If it was before, he’d just stop, tell him to forget about it, maybe kiss him and they’d probably fuck and pretend everything’s fine. But they don’t do that anymore. He doesn’t want them to do that anymore.

“How am I supposed to know you’re not just going to leave again? That you’re not…”

“I’m not,” Louis interrupts him, finally looking up. He’s fiddling with his— _Nick’s_ t-shirt and biting his lip.

Nick really wants to believe him, but.

“How am I supposed to know it won’t end like last time? How am I supposed to know you won’t just break my fucking heart again—”

“Nick—“

“No, Louis, I can’t even tell my _parents_ that I’m seeing someone, I can’t talk to anyone about this and when— _if_ you leave, I’m going to be alone with this again and—“

“Nick, I’m not going to—”

“Why is it different this time? What—“

“I’m fucking in love with you,” Louis says and everything around them stops. Nick feels like he’s been punched in the gut and he’s staring at Louis with wide eyes. His mouth is probably open. Louis’ looks unsure and for a moment Nick thinks that maybe he’ll try to take it back, pretend like he hasn’t said that. But there’s determination is his eyes and he doesn’t look away when he repeats quietly, “I’m in love with you.”

And Nick… Nick doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he can’t move and he’s still just looking at him, while his brain screams at him _do something, you idiot!_ But it’s like he’s glued to this spot, like maybe he’ll just stay here forever, Louis’ words replying in his head over and over again. His heart feels like it’s too big for his chest, like it’s going to burst through and land in Louis’ hands, demanding to be held close to him forever.

Jesus, when did he become a lovesick teenager again?

“Can you say something, please?” Louis asks softly, bringing Nick back to reality. He looks small and shy suddenly, but there’s something defensive in the way he’s holding himself, looking at Nick, like maybe he’s expecting him to laugh at him or say he doesn’t feel the same. And it makes him want to laugh because _God_ , he doesn’t even remember what it’s like not to love him anymore.

So he moves and stops right in front of Louis, his hand on his cheek. Louis’ looking up at him, his lip caught between his teeth and Nick brushes his finger across it to make him stop biting it.

“I’ve been in love with you for so fucking long, you _prick_ ,” he says and then he’s kissing him with everything he has, pouring into it all the feelings he’s been trying to hold back, to keep buried deep inside, only for himself. He kisses him and hopes Louis understands every _I love you_ and _I’ve never felt like this before_ and _I’m scared_ and _please don’t leave again._

Louis seems to understand. Somehow it seems like he always does with Nick.

When they break apart, Louis honest to God _giggles._ Nick’s going to die. This fucking kid is going to be the death of him, he’s sure.

“Make me some dinner, Grimshaw,” Louis says and it's a change of the topic, an easy way out, and maybe Nick shouldn't let him do that, should make them actually talk. But Louis eyes are bright and there's a silly grin on his face and he just told Nick that he _loves_ him. They can figure out the rest later.

“Oi, I’m not your servant, Tomlinson,” he replies but gives him one more kiss and starts walking towards the kitchen anyways. It’s because _he_ is hungry, alright. Louis doesn’t have anything to do with it. Talking about feelings is just exhausting. Right. Of course.

“You _love_ me!” he hears Louis shout before he starts talking to Pig in some ridiculous voice. And, well.

He really, really does.

Nick makes pasta, because it’s quick and easy and one of Louis’ favourites, and after standing in front of the fridge for a couple of minutes, he thinks _fuck it_ and grabs a bottle of red wine. Louis raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, accepts the glass when Nick offers him one and takes a sip, a corner of his lips quirking up.

They end up eating on the couch with the telly on, pressed together as close as possible and pretending it’s not on purpose. For a moment Nick lets himself think how domestic this is (Especially after they start fighting over the remote – he lets Louis win, only because he knows it’ll get him a bright smile) and shakes his head.

Louis fucking Tomlinson making him want to settle down. Who would’ve thought.

Louis turns on a footie match and Nick spends the next ten minutes whining and asking stupid questions that he knows will make Louis press his lips together and try to look unimpressed, when in reality he’s trying to hold back his laughter. Nick makes an idiot out of himself, because he’s happy and he’s in love and he always wants to make Louis look at him like that, like Nick makes him happy.

And they’re—they’re still fucked up, the two of them, they are, and there are still things they have to work on but they’re getting better. Nick knows Louis well enough to be sure that he’s going to think about the things Nick told him earlier today, about the way Nick feels, that he’s going to do something about it. They both want it to work. They’re both scared, still, but Nick thinks it’s only going to make them try harder.

He shuts up after a while, just looks at Louis laughing and waits for him to calm down.

“What you looking at?” Louis asks, still smiling widely, looking straight into Nick’s eyes in a way that makes Nick feel a bit exposed, always has, like Louis can see everything he thinks, feels.

So Nick kisses him, pushes into it until Louis lies down on his back with his hands in Nick’s hair and he pulls back only when they both need to breathe. He touches Louis’ cheek gently, brushes it with his fingers and thinks, _I love you_.

“I love you,” he says out loud, because he can, because he feels like maybe now he won’t be able to stop saying it, will try to make up for all the times he could’ve said it but didn’t.

Louis’ face softens and he smiles, brings Nick even closer, whispers, “Take me to bed.”

Nick takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom, lays him down on the soft mattress and crawls over him. They just look at each other for a moment and Nick just— _God_ , he wants everything with him. It’s both exhilarating and absolutely fucking petrifying.

He doesn’t know how long they spend just kissing, holding each other close and breathing each other in, but after what could’ve been minutes or hours, Louis starts moving against him, letting out breathy little noises, and Nick wants to hear more of them, wants them to be louder.

He takes off Louis’ shirt, moving down from Louis’ mouth. He brushes his lips across his cheek and jaw, goes down to his neck where he stays for a while, biting and sucking and leaving lovebites in his wake, because they both have a thing for marking each other up.

He sinks his teeth into Louis’ collarbone and savours his sharp intake of breath, lets himself press closer just for a second, just to feel Louis’ hardening cock against himself. Then he moves away, right before Louis’ hips stutter slightly, looking for pressure, for something to get him off.

Nick tsks.

“Stay still,” he says, and lets himself appreciate the blush spreading down Louis’ body and how hard he’s breathing, before taking off the rest of Louis’ and his own clothes and getting his mouth back on him.

He takes his time, learns all of Louis’ body all over again, kisses, touches every part of him, his flushed chest and his nipples that he offers extra attention to, his tummy that Nick absolutely adores, his arms and hands and every single one of his fingers. He stops at the ring one for a little bit longer and thinks, _maybe. Maybe one day._

Louis starts wriggling when Nick gets to his hips, and his back arches off the bed when Nick bites the inside of his thigh, his hands making their way into Nick’s hair and tugging, trying to get him closer to his cock that by now’s completely hard and leaking.

But Nick’s not finished, so he catches Louis’ wrists, squeezes slightly and asks, “Are you going to keep still on your own or do you want me to make you?” Watches Louis’ eyes widen, hears his breath catch, and he follows with his eyes as Louis raises his hands, holds onto the headboard.

“Good,” he says and his heart aches when Louis smiles, preens, like making Nick happy is all he ever wants to do. It aches in the best possible way, like it’s too big for his chest, like it’s so full of love for this boy that it pushes on his ribs, doesn’t have enough space inside of Nick.

He goes back to touching Louis, covers his skin with his hands and kisses, smiles when he gets to Louis’ feet because Louis is ticklish and it makes him laugh and squirm. Then Nick turns him around and does it all over again, until Louis is pliant and soft and quiet, in that way he sometimes gets. The one only Nick gets to see, and it makes him feel proud and lucky and important, that Louis trusts him like that.

He leaves a trial of kisses down Louis’ back, kisses his bum, and Louis lets out a quiet moan when the last one lands on his hole.

“Do you want to come like this?” Nick asks, brushing his fingers across where his mouth was only seconds ago, and he can’t help but smile when Louis shivers, pushes into the touch.

“Want you to fuck me,” he replies, his words slurring together slightly.

“That wasn’t the question, love,” Nick says and he knows the exact moment it clicks in Louis’ head, because he lets out a whine, a quiet _please._

So Nick gets his mouth back on him, kisses and licks and pushes inside, focuses on doing everything he knows Louis likes, on making him feel good, making him lose himself a little. Louis’ quiet when he comes, only little whimpers getting past his lips, and when Nick rolls him over onto his back, his eyes are a little shiny and wet. Neither of them says anything about it, but Nick holds him extra tight and kisses him hard and tells him he loves him because he thinks they both need to hear that right now.

He waits until Louis’ grip on him loosens to reach into the nightstand, search for the bottle of lube and a condom.

“Still want me to fuck you?” He asks, because he’s completely okay with just jerking off and going to sleep if Louis is too tired or just changed his mind. But Louis nods, spreads his legs a little more so Nick can settle in between them and moans when Nick pushes the first finger inside.

He knows Louis must be oversensitive and it probably hurts a little, so he’s careful, slow, takes his time opening Louis up, until Louis’ hard again, pushing back onto Nick’s fingers and almost begging to be fucked.

But when Nick reaches for the condom, Louis catches his wrist and stops him, and he looks almost shy, so very different than the boy who was moaning about how much he wants Nick’s cock inside him just mere seconds ago.

“Can we—“ He doesn’t finish but it’s obvious what he’s asking and Nick’s heart stutters in his chest.

It’s a little hard to breathe.

“Lou—“ Nick starts quietly because he wants this too, _God_ , he wants this so much, but they have to be smart about it, have to be responsible.

“I haven’t—” Louis says, hesitates and then takes a deep breath, looks straight into Nick’s eyes when he continues, “I haven’t been with anyone—haven’t been with anyone else since… us. So unless you…” He trails off. He looks unsure, like maybe he wants to take it back, but doesn’t. If it was before, he probably would.

But it isn’t. And Nick loves him and Louis loves him right back. They’ve been in a relationship for much longer than the weeks since Louis’ been back, whether they called it that before or not.

“Couldn’t even think about anyone else with your annoying self still stuck in my head,” Nick tries to joke but if falls kind of flat; they both know this is important. They both know how much it means.

“I love you.” Louis says and Nick doesn’t think he could ever get used to hearing these words from Louis. He will be sixty and his heart will still flutter at the sound of them, he’s sure.

When he presses inside, it’s overwhelming, the feeling of Louis around him without anything between them. It makes him think about the first time they did it, about the awkward conversation beforehand and how he felt like he was going to come the minute he was inside Louis.

It isn’t much different this time, because it’s been so long, _so fucking long_ , and when he bottoms out he has to stop for a moment, close his eyes and just _breathe_ , calm himself down a bit.

Louis is flushed and breathless underneath him and he’s so pretty like this, so lovely, and Nick still can’t believe he gets to see him like this, gets to have him and love him. Can’t believe that Louis is _his_ , now.

Christ, he never wants to let him go again.

“I love you,” he says and Louis puts his hand on the back of Nick’s neck, brings him down for a kiss, moans against Nick’s lips when Nick starts moving. He’s slow at first, gentle, but soon Louis’ asking for _more_ and _faster_ and Nick wants to give him everything.

He’s first to come, feels like he’s been on the verge of an orgasm for ages, but Louis follows almost immediately, whimpers at the feeling of Nick coming inside him, filling him up. When he squeezes down on Nick’s cock, Nick feels almost dizzy with it, slumps against him, closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath. Louis holds him close, kisses the top of his head, traces his fingers up and down Nick’s back.

“Get off me, you’re heavy,” he says after a moment, trying to push him off, and Nick grunts, pulls out gently and rolls over, landing on his back. Louis instantly cuddles into his side, rests his head on Nick’s chest, leaves a kiss there.

Nick wants nothing more than to close his eyes and fall asleep like this, but they should probably clean themselves up at least a little. One glance at Louis is enough for Nick to tell that he’s not getting up before the morning, though. He sighs and stands up, smiles when Louis makes a protesting noise and reaches out for him.

He’s sleepy and soft and prefect and Nick’s stupidly in love with him.

“I’m just getting something to wipe you off,” he says but he still leans down to kiss Louis before heading to the bathroom.

When they’re both relatively clean, Nick drapes a towel over the sheet, decides he’s going to deal with changing it in the morning. He gets into bed and Louis is almost asleep already, but he still moves closer, curls into Nick and mumbles _love you_ before his breathing evens out.

And Nick _knows_ , he knows that they haven't solved anything, not really. It's still only the two of them and it's still a secret but this, tonight, feels like a step and it's _something_. It's Louis loving him and maybe that's enough for now.

Nick lets himself look at him for a little longer, thinking how much he wants this for the rest of his life.

For the first time, it doesn’t feel like only wishful thinking.

***

It’s two days later when Louis offers that Nick goes out with him. He’s standing in front of the wardrobe, looking for something to wear and Nick’s on the bed, scrolling through twitter. He can hear Pig running around the flat, probably playing with one of the toys Louis bought her. Nick’s pretty sure she loves Louis more than him but it’s not like he’s that surprised.

He almost drops his phone when Louis turns around and asks, “Do you want to go with me?”

“What?” he finally chokes out, looking up at him and Louis shrugs. He’s trying to be all nonchalant about this but Nick notices the way he keeps fixing his fringe, his hands shaking slightly, and he seems filled with some type of nervous energy. Nick’s not sure if it’s the good or bad kind, but he definitely hopes it’s the first one.

“I mean, I’m meeting the lads at Harry’s so if you want to tag along…” he trails off, shrugging again. Nick doesn’t even have to think about it, he just stands up and kisses Louis before saying, “Sure, I’m gonna get ready,” and going into the bathroom, where he stupidly smiles at his own reflection in the mirror.

He’s so fucking gone for this boy.

“Not even a word,” Louis warns him, when he comes back into the bedroom and raises his eyebrows at the sight of Louis wearing one of his jumpers.

God, he looks so good in it.

“I’m not saying anything,” he replies, pinching Louis’ bum on his way out and Louis scowls at him, but there’s this little quirk of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes that sometimes still takes Nick by surprise. _I did that_ , he wants to say to everyone, because sometimes it feels like making Louis happy is one of his biggest achievements.

Christ, he’s going to make himself throw up. When did he become so fucking sappy.

They take Louis’ car and he seems more and more nervous the closer they get to their destination. Nick doesn’t say anything while he’s driving, just occupies himself with the radio and sometimes lets out some teasing comments about Louis’ music taste. It makes him roll his eyes but he never answers back and that’s definitely a bad sign. So when they stop and Louis moves to get out, Nick stops him.

Louis sends him a questioning look.

“What’s going on then?” Nick asks and Louis just sighs, like maybe he didn’t really believe that he’d actually get away with this. “Lou, if you didn’t want me to come—”

“No!” Louis interrupts him before he can even finish. “I want you here, I really do,” he continues and something inside Nick relaxes a bit. He wouldn’t be mad if Louis wasn’t ready but it feels good to hear him say that. It feels good to know he feels that way. “But…”

“Are you worried about their reaction?” Nick asks and Louis shrugs, nods slightly. Nick rests his hand on Louis’ thigh and squeezes gently.

“Louis, these boys love you like crazy. They’d always support you. If anything, I should be the one who’s nervous,” he adds jokingly but it only makes Louis frown. “Hey, honestly, you’ll be fine. We’ll both be, alright?” He waits for Louis to nod, kisses him once and slips out of the car, Louis doing the same. His heart skips a little when Louis intertwines their fingers on their way to the door and then there’s Harry, beaming at them and ushering them inside.

“I didn’t know you were coming?” Harry asks him as he’s pulling Louis into a hug and Nick shrugs, smiles, says, “It was a last minute decision,” and Harry seems to smile even wider at that.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he replies, now hugging Nick and he sags against him a little, lets himself be pulled into Harry’s warmth and happiness, mumbling, “Me too, H,” into his shirt. When he pulls back, he notices Louis standing in the doorway, smiling softly at them, but as soon as their eyes meet, he disappears in the other room, yelling, “Hello boys!” and laughing when there’s a crashing sound.

“Let’s join them before they completely destroy my house,” Harry says, rolling his eyes and Nick just laughs, follows him.

“Grimmy, mate!” Niall immediately greets him, grinning and pulling him into a hug. And, well, Nick hadn’t exactly expected that but he also can’t say he’s all that surprised. This band has a weird perception of boundaries and personal space and Liam and Zayn cuddling on the couch only proves that.

Not that he minds that much.

Harry asks him for help with making the food and he agrees easily. He should’ve known there would be something more to that because as soon as they’re out of other’s sight, Harry leans against the counter and raises his eyebrow expectantly.

“What,” Nick asks flatly, checking one of the pots just so he can busy his hands with something.

“You seem happy. Both of you do,” Harry observes and his voice is soft, fond, like it’s the best thing that’s even happened. Sometimes Nick wonders what he did to deserve a friend like Harry in his life, someone so kind and genuine. He hopes life will always be kind to him right back, won’t put on his way anything that could change it.

“We get laid regularly, that’s nice,” Nick shrugs but Harry makes a little sound in the back of his throat and kicks him gently.

“I’m being serious, Nick.”

“You’re something different Styles, did you know that?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he replies but he’s smiling and Nick smiles back. And then he feels his face soften a little and he feels a bit disgusted with himself. Seriously, Grimshaw, get your shit together.

“We’re good, I think. He does seem happy, doesn’t he?” If it was anyone else, they probably wouldn’t notice the hint of serious worry in Nick’s voice but. But it’s Harry. Harry always notices.

“He is happy. You really care about him,” Harry says and it doesn’t sound like a question but Nick nods anyways.

“I’m bloody in love with him, even though I don’t even know why, he’s a twat.”

“It’s because of my wonderful looks and charming personality,” Louis says from where he just came into the room, his face flushed and hair a mess. He seems a little breathless and he’s smiling widely.

“I was talking about Zayn, actually. Do you think he likes me back?” Nick deadpans and Louis swats him on the arm and wraps his hands around Harry from behind, peeking over his shoulder to see what he’s cooking and making a pleased noise when Harry offers him the spoon to taste some kind of sauce and kisses his cheek.

“I should’ve chosen Harry to be my boyfriend, he’s so much better,” he sighs dramatically, pouting. Nick rolls his eyes.

“Well, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I guess I am.” He doesn’t sound like he regrets it at all.

A couple of hours later, when Nick loses _again_ in one of the video games, he buries his face in Louis’ hair and starts complaining and refusing to play anymore.

“I actually didn’t think there was someone worse than Harry at this,” Zayn says from where he’s tucked into Niall’s side and Nick throws some popcorn at him.

“I’m never coming here again,” he grumbles and feels Louis' fingers making their way into his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

“Yes, you are,” Louis replies, dropping a kiss to his forehead and Nick pretends it doesn’t make his heart beat faster. Louis can probably feel it but.

Anyways.

“And why would I do that?” he asks, lifting his head and looking at smiling Louis. He seems so at ease, so happy and soft and relaxed and Nick’s so in love with him.

“Because you love me and you’d do anything for me,” Louis says like he can read his mind. Nick can feel the rest of the boys watching them but when he sneaks a glance towards them, their expressions are fond, like maybe they’re just happy for them, happy of how things are turning out.

“You can’t prove a thing,” Nick whispers and then kisses him, just because now he can.

***

**Author's Note:**

> come chat to me on [tumblr](http://clairdeloune.tumblr.com/) :)


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